Expectations vs Reality
by Dretastic
Summary: I have come to realize over the years that what one expects to happen, and what actually happens are generally two… very different things. Especially, and I do mean especially here, when the before mentioned boyfriend is Tweek Tweak.  Creek; Oneshot


**A/N**: Hi again~ So even though I'm currently working on fleshing out a few potential multi-chapter ideas, me writing this asap was a matter of life and death. There's this blog you see, that my dear friend and I love hard (Hyperbole and a half, you should check it out. I promise she does not disappoint), and her most recent entry just ~screamed~ of Tweek.

And thus, this was born.

A long story short, or actually two stories short I guess; I started my writing days via roleplaying, many… many years ago, and the mindset that I have because of it is that: nothing ever ends. **Ever.** That in mind, there are naturally versions of Craig and Tweek, together.. duh, that thrive in my head. So this is more like 'a day in the life of' as far as me and my brain are concerned.

I also would like to dedicate this fic (as well as the few that're coming here shortlyish) to my partner in crime, **Saga.** For putting up with me and my nonsense on a daily basis; for not vocally shunning me for ignoring our roleplay while I write fic; for being my brainstorm partner and lastly for inspiring me constantly far more than the legal limit.

Lastly, reads and reviews are love kids, and sharing IS caring. All the same, I hope y'all enjoy and I'm sure I'll be seeing you guys soon.

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Let me start off by setting up a bit of a scene for you.

It's currently about fifteen past eleven pm, and I got off work approximately fifteen minutes ago. To be honest, what I was expecting to take place after work was the following: I would drive home, head upstairs and inside to the nice and normal apartment I share with my boyfriend. I would take a quick shower, maybe grab a beer, preferably get laid, and then proceed to pass out for the duration of the evening.

I suppose that my expectations were a little optimistic. I have come to realize over the years that what one expects to happen, and what actually happens are generally two… very different things. Especially, and I do mean especially here, when the before mentioned boyfriend is Tweek Tweak.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Because it's a question that has crossed my mind a few times in the past; Dude… Craig, I thought you liked the boring life? What's with Tweek? And to that thought, I have two potential answers that I find are about equally correct; feel free to take your pick.

Option one; when you take into account that I live in a town such as South Park, which in and of itself borders on the ironic, Tweek can easily be considered both normal and boring. That's not to say that he isn't hyper, paranoid, and rather full of surprises; but generally speaking, I've never had to worry about him dragging me into some batshit adventure where someone dies and we have to save the world Johnny-fucking-Quest style. Your second option is, maybe I'm just in denial about how I like things 'nice and boring' while in reality, I don't.

Retrospectively when you take all of the above into consideration; I really haven't a clue why I was even remotely surprised when I unlocked the apartment door to find that my ideal plan for the evening would have to be put on hold until I pieced together a complex and irrational series of events that transpired while I was at work. Again, all things considering; I should have seen this coming.

So tonight I would like to welcome you to yet another episode of CSI: South Park. I will be playing the role of Craig Tucker; god of forensics.

I sigh to myself, shutting the door behind me as quietly as possible while I take note of the most obvious clue towards the catastrophe that took place earlier: every single light that can be turned on, has been turned on. I'm pretty sure Tweek even went as far as changing out the light bulbs that have been burnt out for weeks; because when he does something, he doesn't half ass it.

Thus, all the lights are on. While I'm sure that's important, it's too vague to tell me anything other than my blond has yet again freaked himself out and somewhere in his solution, lights were involved.

I give a glance to the brightly lit living room; taking the moment to shed my coat and other shit in the entry way, leaving them in a mound, before heading into the 'scene of the crime'. It's not a murder scene, but as far as I'm concerned it might as well be. Yeah that's a little dramatic on my part, but I'm tired and this isn't how I wanted to spend my night so fuck you; I'll be as theatrical as I damn well please.

Not a few steps in, and I'm already trying my hardest to hold back some serious laughter; I don't feel up to being assumed as a threat then beaten with a blunt object over some laughing. The floor is currently littered, or more like covered, with popcorn that appears to have been tossed aside during what I'm going to call an attempt to escape.

For a second my mind derails itself, and I find myself thinking if I had a dog then there wouldn't be a mess right now because dogs make really good vacuum cleaners. Thinking back, I bet Tweek would feel safer if we had a dog; either that or he'd feed it coffee and it would end up just as jumpy. I make a mental note to think about that later, seeing as that really doesn't help me in the now.

So, right; there's also a blanket half on the floor, half on the couch that also kind of looks like it was tripped over. That makes enough sense, considering the spray of food; it makes even more sense when I turn around and gawk at the television.

The screen is glowing blue, because apparently someone was in too much of a hurry to just turn it off; which I am not, so I take the time to do so, before glancing down and noticing yet another casualty. The PS3-slash-dvd player has been disrupted from its usual spot; its cord yanked from its socket. This tells me two things that honestly hold no importance whatsoever. One, that there's still a dvd lodged within the console; and two, my poor hyper-paranoid boyfriend never made it to the end of whatever he was attempting to watch. Well, actually. I guess that's important. You know, the whole he was attempting to watch something in the first place. That pretty much tells me exactly what went down.

I'm mildly curious as to both to what freaked him out and what I should be expecting to deal with here pretty soon; I pick up the case and flip it over. Immediately I slap a hand over my mouth in an attempt at stifling a laugh that I can already feel coming.

Darkness Falls.

While I have no problem admitting that I love this cheesy horror flick, I can't even begin the fathom… why. Just, why.

I mean sure, okay. There are far more traumatizing and wonderfully gory flicks he could have picked out of my vast collection of movies; but still. What would compel him to pick a movie with a freaky mask wearing dead bitch that tears people apart if they're in the dark? A movie that, furthermore, just so happens to have a main character with more mental ailments than Tweek himself? I guess I should count my blessings, as few as they might be; because again this could have been so much worst.

I take a few moments to plug the console back in and toss the case aside, before heading towards the kitchen so I can start making the required preparations needed to try and talk Tweek down from the staggering tower of irrational fear that he's more than likely worked himself up too.

Step one of this process, and pretty much every process that involves Tweek; is coffee. Sometimes I luck out with getting to play the role as step one but usually coffee comes first, and then Craig. I would be annoyed by that if it wasn't for the fact that un-caffeinated Tweek makes me seem like a ray of fucking sunshine. So without hesitation, I make quick work of the coffee maker, getting it ready to go like it's my job; which, in a way I guess it is. I flip the switch, sucking in a lungful of air while doing an about face; turning to stare down the bedroom with determination.

Slowly, almost hesitantly due to the uncertainty of what might come flying at my head; I start making my way into the bedroom.

"Tweekers?" I pause in the doorway; silence. I wait a few seconds, before taking a few more steps into the room that's brightly lit, just like the rest of the apartment.

"Tweek… you okay babe?" I pause again, waiting; but there's nothing but silence, again.

I guess I can consider it a good thing that our bedroom is lit up like the fourth of July, seeing as it doesn't take but a few seconds of scanning for me to rule out him being in here. Not that I figured he would be. I mean I've seen the movie enough times to know where he is despite not actually knowing… where he is.

I reach the bathroom door, wincing; bracing myself for that lingering possibility of having something chucked at me the second the door opens, before I grab the handle and swing the door open.

I can't say I'm really shocked to see Tweek sitting cross legged in the bathtub, fully clothed, while clutching a flashlight like his life depended on it. I am a little surprised, though, that he's just sitting there… quietly; y'know, not screaming. My reaction to this, I'm pretty sure, qualifies me as a bad boyfriend but all the same I can barely contain myself for all of a minute, before I crack a grin.

"Trying to reenact the movie in here?" Almost instantly his fearful expression falls into a sulky glare as he slowly detaches one of his hands from around the flashlight; promptly flipping me off; causing me to erupt with a fit of laughter.

"Hey!" I manage to choke out in-between gasping for air, "I was just curious!" I try to let my amusement, and laughing, subside while he pretends to ignore me.

Naturally, I'm not going to have any of that; if someone should be ignoring anyone, it should be me. He's the one who's screwing around with my evening plans. So I smirk at him, silently bringing one of my hands up to hover a few inches from the light switch. Despite the fact that he was pretending to ignore me; I know very well that he wasn't, but if he had been, oh… I have his attention now.

Instantly his head bobs up and his eyes snap to my hand, and then turn to fixate on me; wide and full of panic. I stick to being silent while I move my hand just enough to barely touch the switch.

As soon as my hand makes the contact, Tweek springs out of the tub like his life was on the line; the flashing now disregarded and hitting the floor as he bolts towards me, arms outstretched.

"OMG-DON'T-YOU-AHG-DARE-TURN-OFF-THAT-FUCKING-LIGHT-CRAIG!" His rant!threat came spewing out of his mouth at top speed, but I caught every word of it with skill that's come from years of knowing him.

"Aaand… what if I do?" I raise a brow with the cruel amusement that comes from fucking with his head.

He doesn't exactly give me an answer, instead he throws himself at me; his body colliding against mine with enough force to cause me to let go of the light switch and stumble backward a few steps, his arms find their way around my neck, and his head in my chest upon contact. I let out a silent, almost condescending, laugh as he mumbles incoherently into my shirt. Honestly, I'd feel bad if he wasn't adorable when he gets himself this worked up.

"It's okay Tweekers," I mutter out at him, wrapping my arms around his waist loosely in what I consider to be in an attempt to console him, "I won't turn the lights off on you yet." On the word 'yet', he stiffens up, so I quickly add, "Not until you calm down… at least."

And then, for just a very brief moment I can feel him relax just a bit. That is, until the coffee maker decides that right now is the perfect time to start making noise. And that moment is when Tweek decided he was in fact -NOT- ready to calm down and that he would instead impersonate a scared cat by tensing up and digging his fingers into my shoulder blades.

"HOLY SHIT! THE FUCK TWE-" I'm cut off by the pain caused by his fingers somehow finding a way to dig themselves deeper into my skin while he pulls away from me just enough to look out the doorway with this intensely panicked look on his face, with one his eyes twitching erratically.

"Oh Jesus... w-what the fuck was that..." He's half whispering, half hissing, which makes me suddenly worried if my boyfriend was really part cat. Or possessed.

"The… the coffee maker?" I give him a look that's usually reserved for Clyde. You know the kind of look that, in and of itself, expresses how fucking stupid I think he is for saying whatever it was that he just said. And within a split second Tweek calms down so much that I'm starting to think that maybe he's just bi-polar or something, which is a total improvement over cat or possession.

His fingers detach, his arms recoil, and the look he had been giving me that was full of panicked terror is replaced with one of love struck bliss; a look that makes me wonder if I had actually asked him to marry me, instead of just telling him that I was brewing coffee for him. Talk about easy to please.

"You –Hng- made me coffee?" I kept giving him my Clyde!look, while nodding slowly. He responds to my quick nod quickly by making a weird, questionably happy, noise and tossing his arms back around my neck.

"I –Ack!- love you!" I linger in a state of shock; even as he crashes his lips into mine I can't seem to do anything more than just stand there, confused. Sadly he doesn't leave them there long enough to wait for me to snap back to reality, let alone giving me a chance to respond; before I even rationalize what's going on, he's off me with one of my hands in his own doing this… thing. It's the sort of thing I can really only picture three demographics pulling off without me informing them about how ridiculous they look: children, animals, and Tweek.

Basically what he's doing is this nonsense: taking a few cautious steps, tugging me forward, looking around like the paranoid dork he is, and then repeating the process. I'll admit, usually I'd find this endearing; however, this is yet again far below my expectation threshold for tonight, so Tweek gets to repeat this process all of about twice before I step in and take charge.

I glide past him, earning a very unsure look in the process, and I proceed with dragging him along behind me. Towards the kitchen. That sounds far easier than it actually is, as he seemed to have temporarily forgotten about the coffee due to a relapse of fear. So instead of coming along peacefully, he started to put some serious effort into become dead weight.

I do manage to drag him to about the bedroom doorway before my patience decides to go ahead and sit this round out. Luckily for me, I'm a boss at Tweekmanipulation.

"You know… that coffee isn't going to fix itself, right?"

Bingo.

With the memory of why he was leaving the 'safety' of our bathroom restored, I suddenly find myself being pushed forward; like some fucked up version of a movable human shield.

…

Not five minutes later I have his ass sitting up on one of the countertops, blissfully calm while nursing a mug of coffee. I know I should leave well enough alone, you know… let sleeping dogs lie and all that, but that's just not how Craig Tucker rolls.

"So. Babe." I start with a smirk on my face while I lean against the counter directly across from him; arms crossed. "If I may be so bold as to ask… why exactly did you feel the need to do, what it is that you did… to yourself?"

I wait patiently while he quietly finishes sucking down his coffee; keeping his lips glued to the mug even though he's watching me almost, intently. I'm sure he's hoping that I'll lose interest and drop the subject at hand. However, I have no intentions of dropping shit, so I just keep staring back at him with a blank face; waiting contently until he's finished, and he sets the mug on the counter next to where he's seated.

"Well?" I pop off seconds later, just to make sure he knows that I'm still expecting my answer; an answer that he's clearly in no hurry to give me.

He fidgets while I wait, shifting a few times, constantly looking to me and then the floor, biting his lip some; I'm guessing he was either buying time before I gave up, or either he really had to think about it. I'm not sure if either would have actually surprised me. Usually it doesn't take me too long to lose interest in something, and despite what anyone might think, Tweek does try to filter his thoughts for me. Kind of like, his thoughts look a lot like the inside of a computer. With all the wires connecting and cross-connecting all these little parts together and none of it makes any sense unless you're a computer techie?

Yeah, that's exactly how he thinks, with all the crap everywhere connected by one word; so ultimately he takes all that nonsense, and tries to tell me just what I need to know without all the theories and the FBI's involvement with mind control devices.

"I…Ack! I was sitting there, y'know… watching tv. Then a commercial came on, I think it was about pizza… A-anyways, it ended and the show came back on and I don't –Hng- remember what I was watching… I'm pretty sure it was stupid, and I went to get a soda and then, out of nowhere, I was just was like… I should watch one of Craig's horror movies." He fidgets for a second, one of his eyes twitching; I'm pretty sure he's uneasy about the fact that I'm just staring at him, but that doesn't stop me from continuing to do so.

"I –Hng- I mean, I know me verses anything scary always ends… bad." I can't help but let out a sharp laugh at the understatement of what he just said; the word bad doesn't begin to describe Tweek and fear. He takes a second to glare at me, before continuing.

"But… I… I dunno. I just… ahh, felt like it would be okay. Like I could –Ack!- handle it!" He gave me a funny look, watching me, probably expecting me to say something; something reassuring, or perhaps helpful. However after giving my already tired brain a chance to absorb what he said… my delayed reaction was neither.

"You… you are a fucking mess sometimes. You know that?" I state very matter-of-factly, while a hint of a smile tugging to the corners of my mouth. Apparently my response was the incorrect one, as Tweek gives me a hurt look before proceeding to pout in a way that causes me to start laughing; to cover up the fact that I almost feel… bad, a little.

"Well, you are." To that he flips me off, and I impulsively return the gesture before I push myself off the counter I was leaning against to instead move towards the counter Tweek's perched on.

I can tell that he's back to playing the 'I'm acting like I'm ignoring you' game; a game that we both know he really sucks at. He tries though, going as far as to look away from me as I happily lean against the countertop edge, in-between his legs; my arms loosely around his waist. His cold shoulder doesn't hold up much longer, and soon his head plops against my neck while he starts compulsively picking microscopic pieces of lint off my shirt.

"So, can I ask… exactly what freaked you out about that movie?" Leave well enough alone? What the hell does that mean?

Quietly, I can feel him mumbling something into my neck that I'm pretty sure we both know I cant hear. There's a bit of a pause, before he pulls away and gives me this eerie like… serious face. It kinda freaks me out a little because Tweek and serious are two words that generally don't belong in the same sentence.

"You… ahh, do you remember our pre-school teacher?" This odd question combined with his facial expressions tell me this is probably one of those things I should remember; but really? I've put a lot of effort in my lifetime to block out as much of my childhood as I possibly could.

"Uhh… vaguely. Really, vaguely. The teacher was a chick, yeah?" Honestly, that was a total bluff on my part; Tweek rolls his eyes at me, so it's safe to say he didn't buy it.

"Uh-huh. And Stan and those guys –Ack!- accidentally caught her… and part of the school on fire." My eyes narrow at the very thought of those assholes; I honestly don't remember but fuck if that doesn't sound like something they'd do.

"…Yeah?"

"… And… then fucking, Cartman caused her to –Hng- catch on fire again in, uh.. fourth grade…" Suddenly, I can see exactly where this is going and it makes me kind of regret beating that dead horse…

"Mmh." I try not to wince as I notice him tensing up again; I know he's about one hair away from going Tweek on me so in a last ditch effort of comfort I wrap my arms tighter around his middle, pulling his body closer to mine.

"Jesus! I mean what.. what if they did it again she f-fucking died man! She could come back like that –Gah!- fucking bitch with… with the mask, who's all hell-bent on revenge and.. and she –Ack!- plots to kill everyone that was in that class! I mean, I don't want to die Craig! Especially not by being torn apart by some creepy dead chick with claws and a mask, making all those fucked up noises!" He finally comes to stop; twitching and looking around cautiously before his arms are tossed around my neck again.

I make a mental note to somehow find a way to stop Tweek from thinking while I'm not around. Maybe I can dart him with a tranquilizer gun… or get him one of those indestructible dog toys; you know the ones you can put food inside of. I mean obviously food wouldn't work, and coffee would leak out; but I bet I could put like… an alarm inside of it and then I could hide it. It might take him a while to find, and even then he'd still have to get it out to turn it off…

God I hate those guys. Seriously. I sigh while rubbing his back lightly.

"Well you know, if that did happen? She'd totally want to kill those assholes first." I offer as a suggestion; which at least gets Tweek's attention enough for him to look up at me, "So, y'know. As long as they're alive, we'll be fine."

"I… ahh, guess that makes sense.."

"Good, I'm glad that's settled. Do you feel better now?" I tilt my head some to get a better look at him, and he's just looking at me like suddenly I'm the idiot who just said something ridiculous.

"Not really." Shocker. I frown.

"… Dooo, you feel better enough so I can at least turn off some of these fucking lights?" I offer, instead; though god help him if he says no.

"Hng- As… long as you don't leave me alone in the dark, I.. guess." I open my mouth for just a second; snapping it shut before I give myself a chance to say anything. I mean I know I can be a dick, and almost cruel at times; but I'm not that much of an asshole. However, thinking back to my original expectations for this evening; I have a far better idea that involves killing two birds with one stone.

"I wouldn't dream of it babe." I instead reply, a shitty grin already finding its way on my face as I move away from the counter and drag Tweek along with me while I flip off the kitchen light and head back towards the bedroom, "Come on, I need to take a shower."

**/End.**

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(**Ps**: Just in case you're curious/as forgetful as I am, the episode the ending is referring to is "Pre-School". Also, er… the kong toy is a reference to the Hyperbole blog. There's no way I could have thought about that on my own).


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